


Foreign Waters

by reyescott



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 19:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10951629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyescott/pseuds/reyescott
Summary: A series of snapshots of Liam falling in love with Scott Ryder.“Don’t worry, Liam,” he says, and pitches his voice lower so only Liam can hear, “you’re still my favorite.”His entire face heats, and he ducks his head with the embarrassment, but luckily Scott’s already headed to the upper deck of the Tempest, whistling as he goes. Doesn’t have to explain himself, then.





	Foreign Waters

A brand new galaxy, millions of light years away from home, and one of the first sights so beautiful that Liam has to stop to catch his breath isn’t the starry backdrop beyond any observation deck, it’s not the new views of planets and solar systems and nebulae, it’s Scott Ryder as he wakes from cryo, wide-eyed and smiling. Human curiosity at its best, and it's damn inspiring.

Liam waves, over-eager, at him from across the room, when Scott looks his way, and for one, tiny fraction of a second in all the chaos of waking up, that smile’s directed towards him. It's special in ways Liam didn't think it would be, but he's never been smiled at like this before.

And he is beautiful. Has freckles that paint stars on his skin that match his eyes. Has an animated way of talking that makes everything look all the more exciting. Liam takes in the curve of his jaw, his lips as he smiles and speaks, and tells himself to get a grip. Tells himself not to stare, but Scott's something else in a universe of something else, and he draws attention like density to a blackhole.

So he waves, and waits.

——-

“SAM’s offline,” Liam says, hands on his knees, stopping for breath once he catches up with Scott. Habitat 7’s a fucking joke, that’s for sure, and judging by the crestfallen look on Scott’s face, he knows it, too. No saving this place, no making it viable. “Guess we’re fucked."

There’s definitely not going to be an outpost here.

But the look on Scott’s face disappears after a second, and he claps Liam on the shoulder when he stands. “Come on. We should find my father and the others.”

Scott’s a man of few words, those first steps in Andromeda on Habitat 7. Mission-focused—when they find Fisher, the look in his eyes when he tells Liam they follow protocol for first contact is hard, and a shiver travels down Liam’s spine.

He almost says, “Yes, sir,” because Scott does the commanding officer role well. With a father like Alec Ryder, he’s not surprised. But then Scott says he'd worked in the Alliance, and the quick way he rattles that off makes it sound like there's a story to be told, but they've got a job to do and Scott doesn't immediately offer the information.

Habitat 7’s crawling with hostile aliens, and weird unknown tech that no one can wrap their head around. Liam keeps Scott in his sight at all times, making sure none of their enemies can reach his vantage point. Alec wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if something happened to Scott.

Liam doesn’t want to give him the opportunity.

After the battle, Scott pulls his helmet down, and claps a hand on Liam's shoulder. It’s not even skin-to-skin contact, and Liam still feels his nerve endings light up with the touch. It’s strange, but not unwelcome. ”Good aim," Scott says, holstering his sniper rifle. "You kept most of 'em off me."

Liam stifles a laugh. "Most of them?” He’d been careful, damn it, watched his peripheral and made it a point to first take out anyone that looked like they were headed towards Scott.

Scott winks, already setting off towards the building they'd come to investigate. "Always room for improvement."

Fucker. Liam shakes his head and follows him.

And when it’s over, and Scott’s lying unconscious on the Hyperion, and Liam’s sitting beside him still in his armor, typing out post-mission reports on his omni-tool, he doesn’t think twice about it. Scott’s gone through a lot. He needs a friendly face.

That’s all that matters.

——-

Be careful, is what Liam wants to say, when they crash land on an alien planet and Scott stares out ahead of them and says, “I’m Pathfinder. First contact’s on me.”

They watch while Scott makes his way through the crowds—Liam stands in front of the vid SAM throws up, and bites his nails.

First contact’s important. So’s the Pathfinder.

Liam’s not being selfish about that. It’s about the fate of the entire Andromeda Initiative. Without planets, they’re fucked.

But Scott, for all his joking, his inability to be mature at the best of times, the man who had hung up on the Archon just minutes ago, holds his ground and abates the angara, and schmoozes his way through negotiations to get back Moshae Sjefa - whoever that is - and Liam doesn’t realize he’s been breathing tight until Scott’s back on the ship.

“This is Jaal,” he says. Liam glances between them—Scott’s hopeful, pleased face, and Jaal’s guarded expression as he takes in the Tempest with suspicion. “I hope all of you are going to do your best to make him feel at home.”

It’s not spoken with any kind of threat—that if they don’t, they’ll have to answer to Scott, or the Nexus, or anyone else—but Liam still steps forward and says, “Glad to have you. Could always use another hand in the mission.”

Jaal stares at his outstretched hand. Behind him, Scott’s using his hand to hide a grin. “The mission against the kett.”

Liam blinks, looking back and forth between Jaal and Scott. “Uh, I guess, yeah.”

Jaal doesn’t act overly friendly those first few minutes on the Tempest, drops his things off and acknowledges Scott’s instruction they’ll have a team debrief in fifteen with all the professionalism of a soldier. But Liam gets it, can’t imagine what it’d be like to board an alien ship like this. He can’t hold that against Jaal.

Liam turns to Scott. 

“What?” Scott asks, but his eyes are dancing with mirth and everything about him seems pleased and happy. Liam can feel it, too. “Don’t worry, Liam,” he says, and pitches his voice lower so only Liam can hear, “you’re still my favorite.”

His entire face heats, and he ducks his head with the embarrassment, but luckily Scott’s already headed to the upper deck of the Tempest, whistling as he goes. Doesn’t have to explain himself, then.

Which is good. What the fuck would he say? 

——-

They’re all standing around the table on the upper level of the Tempest, varying degrees of consciousness—Drack’s sleeping on the couch, Cora’s kneeling on the floor with her head resting on her arms on the table, Peebee’s got a spine so straight it’s hard to believe, but she’s always wide-eyed and eager. Liam’s almost a little jealous.

He’s setting up teams--Scott, Liam, Peebee. Drack and Cora, Vetra and Jaal, to hit Harvarl hard and efficiently. Liam should be paying attention--sometimes he does—but he's hyperfocused on Scott’s features, trying to figure out which one is his favorite.

A few minutes pass, and Scott sends him a wink from across the table, not even stopping in his sentence.

Liam blinks. Huh. That's new.

Scott’s still going, though Liam’s mind is stuck replaying his wink. Scott’s damn professional for a guy that once thought he wasn’t cut out for the job.

"Penny for your thoughts, Liam?" Scott asks, eventually, raising an eyebrow and leaning forward on the table.

"Yeah," Peebee says, and isn't she just a shit-stirrer? Her smile’s almost wicked. "You've been staring at Ryder the whole meeting. What gives?"

Liam almost thinks he's going to say something sappy--tracing the freckles on your face--but he says, instead, "You had something in your teeth. Think it's gone now, though.” He almost sighs with relief. 

Scott scowls. "You could have said something!" He looks to the others. "Come on, no one?"

Liam waits for someone to give him up--"Never saw anything, Pathfinder."--but no one does. Liam's grateful that no one pays attention to his meetings. That the others are as in the dark on this as he is.

"You're all horrible." His voice is flat, and he's covering his mouth with his hand, the tips of his ears going pink. "Planetside in an hour, no arguments!"

Liam watches as the others leave. He sticks behind for reasons he's not sure about until Scott sends him a glance. He drops his hand. "You always think that quick?" Scott asks.

"Crisis response," Liam says. "Gotta think fast." 

"So," Scott says, slow, as he steps forward. "What were you staring at me for? Is my shirt on inside out? Did I piss you off? Maybe I have something on my face?"

"Your freckles," Liam says. He almost reaches out to touch them, stops last minute. His hand hangs in the air between them. If Scott notices, he doesn’t mention it. ”Think I saw the Big Dipper on your face."

The tips of Scott's ears go redder. "Oh. It'd've been a little more poetic if it were an Andromeda constellation."

"Maybe." Liam blinks, and then smiles, tight, and claps his hand on Scott's shoulder. "You ready for Havarl?"

Scott immediately turns back into the animated man he was a second ago, and Liam’s left in the dust of figuring out just what the hell that was.

 ——-

"Come on, Liam, we'll freeze if we don’t."

"Aren't you being a little melodramatic?" Liam says, from his spot against the wall. Voeld’s cold but it’s not that bad. Scott’s looking at him with his wide eyes, a soft, sad expression on his face.  Like a puppy dog. ”You know that doesn't work on me."

"Knew I should've brought Cora," Scott says with a sigh. He crosses his arms. Liam knows better, knows SAM can alter Scott's body temp and keep him warm. So what's Scott's angle, here? Liam's not against the concept--but they're nowhere near worry for hypothermia or anything. They’re sheltered from the wind, and the snow, and their armor’s equipped well for sub-zero temps.

And anyway, Liam's not eager to get close to him, not now. Not when he’s still figuring this out, how to handle having feelings for the Pathfinder when Liam’s never even had feelings for another man.

Liam blinks at what Scott says, and questions, ”You snuggle with Cora?" 

His expression changes into something delighted, eyes sparkling. Liam groans inwardly. Walked right into that one. “Are you jealous, Kosta?"

Play it cool, he thinks. ”Of you or Cora?" 

Shrugging, Scott undoes one of the latches on his armor. Liam watches, silent, as he pulls off his glove. "Dunno. You tell me. You've been acting weird, lately."

Liam's mouth goes dry. "Ryder--"

But then the comms crackle, and Kallo's voice comes through, "Pathfinder! The storm's clearing, should have extraction in fifteen." 

He exhales, slow, running a hand over his face. That's that, then, because Scott's back in Pathfinder mode and Liam doesn't have to answer.

\----- 

Two hours searching the Nexus and the Tempest, and Liam finds Scott in his father's quarters on the Hyperion. He waits for SAM to let him in, and knows the second he steps over the threshold into the room that something's different. Off.

"Did you know?" Scott asks from his position by Alec's console. He's leaning on his arms, hands pressed flat to the desk, his head hung between his shoulders. Defeated. It's not a good look for a Pathfinder.

But this is different, and Liam knows Scott well enough to know this isn't about the job. The hard line of his shoulders, the tension in his arms. This is about Alec.

"Know what?" Liam asks. Keeps his voice level, trying to gauge the situation before he dives headfirst in to response. He doesn't want to set Scott off anymore than he already is.

"What he did? That--SAM's not..." He shakes his head, scoffs. "Is there anything about that man that wasn't wrapped up in riddles and secrets?"

Liam can't relate--knows their relationship was strained, at best, but Liam's relationship with his father was nothing like that. "He loved you," Liam says, already knowing that's not enough. "That's gotta count for something, right?"

Scott makes a strained noise. "Is that all it takes? Whether you love someone or not, that makes the lies, the secrets, that makes those okay?"

Pulling a face, Liam steps closer. Isn't sure if he wants to reach out and touch, isn't sure if Scott would let him. "What happened?"

Scott turns, finally. His face is dry, but he looks tired, exhausted. "What didn't happen?"

"You get any sleep after we got the Moshae back?” But Scott shrugs the question off.

“Just—I get there was a lot of fucked up stuff involved, but—“ Scott swallows, runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, we’re his kids. Don’t we count for something?”

Uncharted territory, Liam thinks. He has no idea how to make this better. Or even ease some of what Scott’s feeling. And maybe he doesn’t need to, maybe he needs to feel so he can meet the challenges Alec left him head-on, but… “I’m sure he would’ve told you if he thought he could have.”

Scott shakes his head. “No. Guy’s not exactly an open book, under any circumstances.” He finally meets Liam’s gaze. “Sorry. Just… I found a bunch of his logs, or memories, or whatever, and…” He sighs, exhales so fast it blows his hair feathered across his forehead out of place. “Doesn’t matter. What’s up?”

No-nonsense, now. Liam thinks he misses the Scott that came to Andromeda, but in a few minutes he’s joking and laughing just the same.

He’s not missing, Liam realizes. Just that the duties of Pathfinder weigh heavy on his shoulders, and no one’s there to carry the weight for him when it gets too much.

——-

Maybe it is a bit of hero worship, Liam thinks, as they're rescuing the Salarian Pathfinder, because Scott's downright terrifying when he needs to be. His voice goes low, and his hand holds steady on his rifle, and his orders are calm, precise. Liam gets shivers thinking about it.

Like a machine--like an N7.

Like his father, but Liam doesn't think that Scott would take to that too well.

Afterwards, Scott sits on a crate in engineering, his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. He shares a look with Cora, who moves to take a seat next to him.

"Scott?" she asks. Liam tries not to make it obvious he's watching for a reaction.

"I'm fine," he says. He doesn't lift his head. 

"Do you need to talk about it?"

Scott makes a noise, something like a laugh and a groan. He turns his head to Cora, and says, "I'm not convinced it'll help." He pauses, but doesn't move. "I appreciate the offer, though."

"We're your crew," Cora says. "Anything for our Pathfinder."

Something that she says rubs him the wrong way, because he snorts. "Yeah. Pathfinder." Cora exchanges a glance with Liam while Scott stands, pulling open a locker to undress. Cora gestures to Scott, then to Liam--you try.

Liam clears his throat, leans against his own locker. "She's right, you know. We'd do anything for you."

"Anything." Scott's voice is flat. His eyes stare straight ahead while he goes through the motions of taking his armor off. "Right."

"Within reason," Cora says. "I mean--"

Scott interrupts her by slamming his fist into the locker. Cora doesn’t even flinch, which is more than Liam can say for himself.

His breath is heavy, and Liam snaps into action, pulling Scott to sit back on the bench. "Hey," he says, keeping his voice quiet, as he sits down next to Scott. He's careful as he moves into his space, slow, and reaches out for his hand. "Can I take a look?"

Scott's eyes are wet, and he looks pissed. But he nods, furiously, and swallows down what might have been a disgreement. Liam grabs his hand, looking at the knuckles, already blooming blood and bruises, and looks to Cora. "Give us a few? Gonna need Lexi on this."

Cora doesn't hesitate, and jumps into action, leaving without a word. 

"You don’t—" Scott starts, then stops. “—you don't have to."

"'Course I do," Liam says, easy, turning Scott’s hand in his. "But even if I didn't, I'd want to."

It sounds weird coming from his lips, but it's true. He'd help Scott whether it was his job or not. Alec was different, but in a lot of ways. No-nonsense, a bit of a hardass. 

"I don't mean... I mean this." Scott flexes his fingers. Blood rises to the surface of the cuts, and Liam sighs.

"Maybe you should stop punching things," Liam says.

"One locker, and it's a personality trait," Scott says, trying to joke. He misses the mark, though. Liam doesn't see a trace of a smile on his face, even. "It just feels pretty fucking futile."

"Dunno. Got the Moshae back, took down a kett facility, found the Krogan scouts and Ark Paarchero. Kinda seems like a win to me."

"Not what I meant." Scott takes a deep breath. "Kind of meant the whole Pathfinding thing. Just... seems like a lot. Impossible to win.”

Liam glances up at him. He's still holding Scott's hand--could be wrong, but it doesn't look broken; Lexi's more for the superficial injuries and mother henning than anything--but he doesn't pull back. "You don't think you're doing good?" Scott shrugs, shakes his head.

"Yeah, I don't... I don't think so.”

It’d be laughable, under other circumstances. The idea that Scott’s not making progress. Liam brushes the pads of his fingers over Scott’s knuckles. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Easy for you to say,” Scott says. “You don’t have the Nexus breathing down your neck.”

Maybe not, but Scott’s kidding himself if he doesn’t think his crew feels it as strongly as he does. Everyone here took a chance on an unknown. There’s not one person on this ship, or anywhere else, that doesn’t feel the pressure.

“Scott,” he starts. “We get it. You don’t have to hold all of this in.”

Scott makes a noise. “Yeah, I know, I just…” He looks at Liam. His cheeks are stained with tears, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, uncertainty.

Liam thinks, maybe, about brushing the tear tracks away—one brief second of fantasy before it’s gone.

“I want to help,” Liam says. Scott’s hands start to shake in Liam’s, and he opens his mouth to respond when Lexi descends on the elevator.

“Another injury, then.” Her tone is flat. Irritated, then, not that Liam can blame her.

“It’s not bad,” Liam starts, but she shoots him a look, angry and intense, so he stops. Instead, he turns to Scott. “You want me to hang around, Pathfinder?”

He knows what he’s hoping for. Doesn’t say it, though. Out loud means whatever he feels for Scott, it’s real. Liam’s not sure he’s ready to admit it.

“No,” Scott says. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

——-

Liam’s never felt so stupid in his entire life. The trip back to the Tempest feels wrong, tense, stilted, even with Drack’s constant grumbling.

“You think,” he says, pointing out the window, “there’s anything edible on this planet?”

No response. Liam doesn’t dare glance in Scott’s direction. Finally, Drack grunts. “Would the two of you rut and get it over with?”

A startled noise breaks out of Scott’s mouth. “What are you talking about?”

Drack groans. “Don’t play dumb with me, kid. Two of you gotta deal with with yourself like adults. It’s cruel to subject me to this… mating ritual.”

“This **what**?”

“That’s not what this is.” Scott glances Liam’s way, just for a second. Liam doesn’t meet his gaze—can’t figure out what it means. Not sure he wants to know, anyway. He does look at Drack, though, who looks about as irritated as a krogan can without being angry. It reminds him a lot of the way most aliens do when dealing with younger humans—exhaustion. A little bit of embarrassment.

A lot of impatience.

“Then maybe,” Drack starts, and there’s a note to his tone Liam’s not sure he likes, “you need to fight.”

“We just took down an architect,” Scott says. His hands are tight on the wheel. “What kind of fighting did you have in mind?”

——-

Not one of Drack’s better ideas. Scott’s not much for hand-to-hand combat. Doesn’t really need to be, beyond basic takedowns—he stays out of combat for the most part, with a sniper rifle out of sight from enemies. But it means it’s easy for Liam to pin him, again and again, Scott’s back to the mat on the floor of engineering, Scott’s expression pained as he pants into the air between them.

“You’re not even trying!” Liam says, the fifteenth time he slams Scott to the floor. “Ryder, come on. You haven’t pinned me once.”

The tension changes in the room, just like that, from the anxiety of a fight to the heaviness of—Liam’s not even sure. Familiar, maybe, but new for them.

Scott brings his hands up to rest on Liam’s hips, like he’s going to throw him—Liam can feel the buzz of his biotics on his fingertips, and isn’t that an interesting sensation—but his grip stays soft. “Maybe I like you on top.”

Liam’s mouth goes dry. For a second, he sits there, painfully aware of where their skin touches —Scott’s fingers on Liam’s hips, Liam’s hands on Scott’s shoulders. Maybe I like you on top.

What the hell, Liam thinks, and his gaze rests on Scott’s lips.

“What?” he asks, very eloquently.

Scott immediately colors. “Fuck.” He’s tense beneath him, now, but doesn’t move to push him off. “Did I—I went too far, didn’t I?” He frowns, closes his eyes. “Shit. Shit. Hey, then—I read this all wrong, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—“

He stops for a breath. Liam realizes, then, that Scott doesn’t know.

“It’s not—“ Liam starts, but the comms crackling with Suvi’s voice interrupts him.

“Remnant City approach, Pathfinder. Whenever you’re ready.”

Scott sighs. His hands drop from Liam’s hips, and he taps him on the shoulder. “I give. Duty calls.”

Liam rolls off of him, watching as Scott hops to his feet, agile as ever, and leans his head back on the floor to catch his breath, calm his thoughts.

“Duty calls.”

——-

His hands grip the railing, until his knuckles feel tight with pressure. He counts his breathing. Focuses on the rise and fall of Scott’s chest across the room.

In and out.

“He’ll need more rest,” Lexi had said, “but he’ll be fine.” 

Fine. There should be more reassurance in those words.

There isn’t.

He’d carried Scott out of Meridian on his own. There was a hell of a lot of people there, a camera—the whole thing was broadcast to the entire galaxy. Everyone saw the human Pathfinder slouched in Liam’s arms, unconscious, blood dripping from his nose. Everyone knew how bad off he was.

Liam got tired of answering questions, of playing nice with reporters telling them they were heroes, and locked himself in Scott’s quarters on the Tempest with him.

“We really should keep him on the Hyperion,” Lexi had said, but Harry had disagreed.

“He doesn’t know the Hyperion like the Tempest. Best to have him wake up in familiar territory.” He’d shared a smile with Liam, then, like he **knew** , which was bizarre because Liam’s not even sure if either of them do. “He’ll want a friendly face.”

Lexi had frowned, said, “ **You’re** just as friendly a face, Harry.”

“Somehow,” Harry had said, turning from Liam to look back down at Scott, “I think there are others he’d rather see.”

Screens across the Nexus are playing interviews, and clips, anything they can get their hands on. Liam’s tired of seeing it, tired of hearing Scott’s voice in distress over comms from videos taken on Meridian.

Not until Scott can stand there and make fun of them with him. Until then—

“You still here?” Scott asks. Liam turns his head from the window, the view of the Nexus, to see that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, running a hand over his hair. No worse for wear, and even though Liam knew that, seeing it is different.

Relief floods over him. “Rise and shine,” Liam says. “How are you feeling?”

He stretches his hands, raises his arms above his head, and frowns. Kicks his legs out in front of him. “All right. How’s Sara?”

“Fine. Checked on her a while ago. Already walking around raising hell.”

Scott nods, clearly relieved by the information. He looks back to Liam. “How long was I out?”

“Didn’t miss the big party, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He lets go of the railing, steps forward to the bed. Isn’t sure if he should take a seat next to Scott, or keep standing. He’s overcome with the want to feel Scott’s skin under his hand, his heartbeat against his fingertips.

Proof he’s alive, and okay.

“Great. I don’t need a party.”

Liam chuckles. There are butterflies in his stomach he hasn’t felt since he went into cryo. “Good, ‘cause it’s not for you.” Scott snorts. “Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“What’s there to celebrate?” Scott asks. In for a penny, Liam thinks, and sits next to him.

“You’re kidding, right? There’s plenty to celebrate! Victory over an adversary! Viability in a new galaxy! You made the Andromeda Initiative a success, Scott. They’re pulling people out of cry because of what you did.” 

But it doesn’t seem to appease him. He stares down at his hands. Liam thinks about reaching out and grabbing them. “So you don’t have any regrets?”

He deflates. “Didn’t say that. ‘Course I do. Krogan scouts on Paarchero. Not getting to the durian ark faster. We could have split up on some of those missions, two birds, one stone, that sort of thing.”

Scott’s head pops up, and his eyes flash with anger. “No.” 

There’s something there, then. Liam blinks. “Uh, okay. Sure. Never did, though. Not questioning your judgement—“

“It’s not about—“ Scott groans. “You’re important to me, Kosta—you think for a second I’m letting you out of my site in an unknown?” He lifts his hand, seems to think better of it, and puts it back in his lap. Liam glances up at his face—he’s frowning. “Can I be honest with you?” he asks.

“‘Course you can—“

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

His tone isn’t scared. His voice isn’t too quiet or too fast. There’s no second-guessing that that’s what he’d said, so Liam doesn’t have the excuse of not hearing him for the immediate silence that follows.

His heart beats faster in his chest, and he says nothing.

“And I know—I know you said you’re not interested in guys, just—it gets hard to hold in, and if you need to request a transfer to the Nexus or something I’ll sign off on it, but I really don’t want to lose my best friend, here—“

“Scott,” Liam says, “you’re rambling.”

He flinches. “Right.” He clenches his jaw, nods his head. “Sorry, just—forget I said anything.”

“I’m not good at this,” Liam says.

“You don’t need to say anything. But, you know, I’d kind of like to be alone? If—“

Liam chuckles, and reaches an arm across Scott’s lower back. He shivers with the touch, and his cheeks go pink. “Didn’t peg you for someone so thick.” He swallows, draws his fingers up Scott’s spine until they’re resting at his neck. “But I guess I’m just as bad.”

“Wanna let me in on your secret, then, if you’re so enlightened?” Scott asks, but he’s turning his face towards Liam, and his eyes are half-lidded, focused on his hips. “Before I kiss you?”

“Not gonna stop you,” Liam says, but Scott holds him back with a hand to his chest.

“I’m all for making out,” he says. His voice is low, this time, intimate in the space between them. “But I kind of want to hear you say it. So I know this is real.”

With his free hand, Liam reaches up and draws his fingers across Scott’s face, across the patterns of freckles that dot his skin in constellations. He presses forward anyway, Scott’s arm falling from his chest, and says, against his lips, “I love you, too, Scott.”

The words hit him hard, and he smiles into the kiss, a half-choked laugh-sob coming out before he closes the kiss.

Rest of the galaxy can wait, Liam thinks, brushing his thumb over the constellations on Scott’s skin. Scott Ryder draws everyone in, with charm and smiles and jokes, but Liam’s lucky enough to have his attention in the minutes in between, and he’s sure as hell not letting that go to waste.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you know I used to work on original fiction before these two and now all I want to write is them falling in love in 80 different universes
> 
> I mean I'll still do that but they have definitely distracted me
> 
> @reyescott tumblr


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